


white lie.

by thejackestofasses



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Other, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23182918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejackestofasses/pseuds/thejackestofasses
Summary: Then they wondered what look he’d have on his face if they told him that sometimes they had nightmares about him, and then the lie tasted so much sweeter on their tongue than the bitter truth.
Relationships: Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86





	white lie.

**Author's Note:**

> been thinking about that part in lesson 19-20 when satan’s telling mc about a story he read and indirectly compares himself to the monster.

They woke up gasping, bolting upright in bed. As they clutched at their chest, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of their sweat causing their shirt to stick to their skin, someone stirred next to them. Right. Satan had come to their room to spend the night, to just hold them in his arms. Since they’d started dating, it was something he did every so often.

“...Yuki?” Looking somewhat bleary eyed, but still all too aware that something was wrong, Satan sat up and peered at their face through the dim lighting. “What’s wrong...?”

“It’s nothing,” they said, maybe a little too quickly. With a sharp intake of breath, they licked their dry lips nervously. “Just had a bad dream...” Realizing that he’d probably ask what the dream had been about, their mind preemptively raced to come up with an answer. “...about drowning.” Their voice was stilted sounding to their own ears, although that could easily be explained as them still recovering from fright. And to be fair, they’d had a nightmare about drowning before, so it _almost_ wasn't a complete lie.

Satan stared at them for a long moment, in that way they somehow loved and hated in equal measure. Like he could see straight through them, into their soul. He’d always tended to be perceptive. It could be comforting or embarrassing depending on the situation, but now they only felt a stab of panic as they desperately hoped he wasn’t seeing through them in that moment.

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” he asked then, tilting his head as his brow creased in concern. He reached out, brushing his hand against the bare skin of their arm in what was undoubtedly meant to be a comforting gesture. They resisted the urge to flinch, briefly freezing up before leaning into the touch.

“No, I’m fine, let’s go back to sleep. Just... hold me again, please?” Their voice was so soft then, it was barely more than a murmur.

Satan fell silent, still looking at them with that pensive expression of his. When they pushed gently on his chest, however, he relented. Lying back, he positioned himself so that they could rest their head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around them firmly, as if to protect them from the frightening images that had crept into their subconscious. He didn’t say anything else, just stroked their hair for a few minutes, and they felt like they could hear the cogs turning in his head.

They wondered if really, he knew something was off and was choosing to let them lie to him. They wondered if lying to him was really the healthy thing to do in a relationship. Then they wondered what look he’d have on his face if they told him that sometimes they had nightmares about him, and then the lie tasted so much sweeter on their tongue than the bitter truth.

His eyes when he looked at them nowadays often held a certain subtle warmth and gentleness that made them feel so at home, but sometimes... sometimes in their dreams, he’d have a look in his eyes that reminded them of before they’d fallen in love. That reminded them of when they’d said no to a pact with him. When he’d looked at them so, so coldly, like they’d been something particularly ugly he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. ...No, like they‘d been something particularly ugly he was about to _intentionally_ step on.

“ _I usually work to contain my anger so it doesn’t show. But I **will** make_ _you suffer if you cross me, and it will be much more cruel and much less humane than anything my brothers would ever do._ ” Those words rang in their head, and they remembered the coldness of his smile. And that was the part they couldn’t seem to get over, wasn’t it?

Lucifer had tried to kill them twice, but his rage had been the result of fleeting moments in which he’d felt fiercely protective of his family’s secrets. Belphegor had laughed over their corpse, but his rage had been the result of a deep anguish he’d felt for years upon years following the loss of his sister. It wasn’t that those moments hadn’t been scary, or that their reasons had justified their violence, and yet... and yet something about Satan’s rage was different. Satan’s rage had been the result of them merely having the audacity to reject him, and there had been something about the way he’d spoken to them, looked at them... His rage had been less desperate and more deliberate, somehow. Maybe it was because he was the Avatar of Wrath, but while the wrath of his brothers had blazed like a fire, his wrath was like ice, creeping into their veins and chilling them to their bones. Something about his wrath had been oddly... _unfeeling_.

They remembered when he’d told them that before he’d met them, loved them, he’d only felt anger. Thinking back on it, maybe that was what had disturbed them so much. When they’d rejected Satan, his mask had slipped, and all they’d seen in his eyes were bottomless pits of pure unrelenting rage. In their nightmares about him, he’d be looking at them with affection one minute, then they’d say or do something _wrong_ and suddenly he’d be looking at them with that icy rage in his eyes. Then, well, he’d turn into his full demon form, describing all of the awful things he was going to do to them as he reached for them with a cruel smile...

Something pressed against their hair, and it took them a moment to realize that Satan was kissing the top of their head. “Sweet dreams, Yuki... I love you,” he murmured, his lips still pressed against their hair. His voice was barely audible to the point that they weren’t even sure he’d intended for them to hear. They wanted to say it back, but tears had sprung to their eyes and they were afraid their voice would crack. He sounded so _gentle_ , his words tinged with sadness. Was he sad simply because he felt bad about them having a nightmare? Or because he could tell they weren’t being truthful with him? Their heart ached, and they felt guilty, and _angry_ at themself. Why... Why did they have to have such a cruel image of him glued to the back of their mind?

He’d been doing so _good_. Despite his demonic nature, he’d grown to be more than just the Avatar of Wrath. He barely so much as raised his voice at them since that incident, and threatening them or raising a hand to them was out of the question. They knew he loved them, and they loved him...

...But sometimes the mind struggled to forget what the heart had already forgiven. So they lied, because he deserved better than to be the monster in their story.


End file.
